


Prestidigitation

by otter



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-13
Updated: 2012-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-03 13:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/381934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otter/pseuds/otter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A proliferation of syllables.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prestidigitation

Daniel says, "What I'm saying is, I don't see how any scientific discipline could fail to be effected by it. Take hermeneutics: researchers are interpreting scriptures that may have been written about early alien visitors. The original authors may not have known the true nature of what they were writing about, or the original authors themselves may not have been human. That ignorance had an impact on their perspective of events, and it colors what modern scholars see simply because they don't know everything we know. We can't even say for sure whether the Goa'uld invented the gods they impersonate, or whether they simply assumed the roles of deities that humans had already dreamed up."

Sam nods, vigorous and eager, though it's possible that she's just moving in an attempt to keep warm. She says, "That's a fair argument, but you can't really make a blanket statement that *all* sciences are impacted. Mathematics, for instance, is built on elementary principles, on tangible equations. I don't see how it would've been impacted by who believed in what gods or--"

Jack kicks up a little cloud of snow into the space between them and says, "It is *way* too cold to be using that many brain cells. Break it up, kids. You know how I hate it when you talk in big words."

Sam grins, but her face is clearly staring to go numb, because the expression doesn't stretch very far. She stands up and stamps her feet, looks down at Daniel with her chin tucked into the collar of her coat. "I'm going to call it a night," she says. "You can tell me how wrong I am tomorrow."

Jack snorts -- it's funny, because it's true -- and flexes the hand he's got wrapped around the stock of his P-90. He's a little concerned that if someone attacked, he'd be unable to fire because he isn't sure whether his fingers are there anymore. He wants his watch to end already, he wants to be in the tent, he wants to be home in front of his own fireplace. Mostly, he wants to crawl inside Daniel's skin and live there, in the warm, protected places.

Daniel pokes at the campfire with a stick as if he's trying to wake it up, goad it into burning a little brighter. He's completely unaware that Jack is mentally undressing him.

"It doesn't work, you know," Daniel says, once Sam has disappeared inside her tent.

Jack wishes he could send Daniel into his, tell him to warm the place up while Jack finishes out his watch. He thinks that maybe he'll suggest to Hammond that they save a little money out of the budget by cutting back on tent purchases. Surely they don't need a single tent for each team member. They could double up. And hell, they could do the same with other stuff while they're at it. He imagines himself saying, 'Sorry, Daniel. The equipment budget's been cut; we're going to have to share a sleeping bag. And we'd better do it naked, to save funds we'd be wasting on uniforms. I know it's a hardship, but we'll have to... *do it* for our country.'

Instead, he says, "What doesn't work?" He stares at the fire, just like Daniel's doing, as if he's trying to see what's so interesting in there.

Daniel waves a hand, and his eyebrows slowly drift down like a B-52 on a bombing run. The words spill out like a strafing. "The 'poor dumb Jack' act. Like two syllables is too much for you and everything Sam and I say goes over your head."

Jack smiles -- well, it's more of a smirk, really. "What makes you think it's an act, hmm?"

Daniel rolls his eyes in a way that he probably learned from Jack. "You know plenty of big words."

Jack nods slowly, sagely, like that little Yoda guy in those movies that Teal'c likes so much. He says, "Even if I did -- and I'll neither confirm nor deny, thank you very much -- that doesn't mean that I ever know what either of you are talking about. Not my field."

"Uh huh," Daniel says, and he looks back at the fire with a very carefully dismissive air. "Okay. Well, maybe you have both the vocabulary and the attention span of an eight-year-old, after all."

Jack raises an eyebrow and rises to the bait. Some fish, he reflects, don't really mind being caught. He says, "Accelerometer. That's at least" -- he holds up a hand to count with exaggerated care on his fingers -- "six syllables."

Daniel looks up. Licks his lips, like he -- dear God. He thinks it's sexy. Jack imagines licking Daniel's lips, too. He says, "Meridian radius of curvature. Laplace transform. Barometric altitude. Astronomical latitude. Spherical error probability. Swashplate."

Even from across the fire, he can see that Daniel's pupils are expanding, and he's breathing a little faster. If Jack had known before about this kink he would've exploited it long ago. He tries to think of a way to implement that sharing-a-sleeping-bag plan immediately, because Daniel's held up a hand to stop him and Jack's hoping the next words will be something along the lines of, 'Why don't we talk more about this in my tent, Jack?' or 'Those aeronautical terms are so fucking sexy I'd like to give you a blow job right here and now, Jack.'

What Daniel actually says is, "Swashplate? You made that one up."

Jack blinks, and he has to take a moment to process the fact that blow jobs were not mentioned at all before he answers. "I did not," he says. He's maybe a little offended.

"Did too."

"Did not. The swashplate controls the pitch of rotors."

Daniel harumphs and hides his mouth in the folds of his coat, just like Carter was doing earlier. Jack's annoyed because he can't see Daniel licking his lips anymore, and it's having an impact on the frequency and quality of Jack's pornographic mental pictures. Daniel's voice is muffled when he says, "Totally made that up."

Jack scoffs at the very idea. "Oh, please," he says. "If anybody's making things up, it's you. During the geophysical survey I distinctly heard you say 'smaragdine.' That can't possibly be a word."

Daniel's poking at the fire again. He says, "Smaragdine: Of or relating to emeralds, or having the color of emeralds. I was saying that the appearance of the rock was 'smaragdine,' because that's what it looked like."

Jack rejects the explanation out of hand, and points an accusing finger. "You're the kind of guy who would cheat at Scrabble and get away with it, because everybody just assumes that you're so smart, you know what you're talking about."

Daniel blinks at him and says, "What?" His head bobs up a little, his chin emerges from shelter and he's like a turtle coming out of its shell. A snapping turtle. The really big, angry kind; he looks how a really big, angry snapping turtle might look if you accused it of cheating at Scrabble.

Jack senses that Daniel's annoyance could interfere with his save-a-million-dollars-by-using-less-tents idea. He fumbles and tries to recover with, "'Kind of guy,' is what I said. I didn't say that you, personally, would *ever* cheat at Scrabble."

Daniel stares at him -- squints, more accurately -- through the fire, which isn't getting any warmer. There's a sound coming from the general direction of Teal'c's tent -- the big guy'll be out any minute to start his watch. Daniel finally says, "Prestidigitation," with an air of satisfaction, as if he's just figured something out.

Jack says, "Excuse me?" That's one particularly big word. He'd have to look it up, but until he gets the chance, he's going to have to assume that Daniel's just insulted his mother.

"Prestidigitation," Daniel repeats. "Sleight of hand."

Jack brightens. "You're going to do card tricks?"

Daniel smiles a smile that says he's got Jack pegged. "Sleight of hand," he says, "is all about misdirection." He stands, tossing his charred, skinny fire-poking stick into the fire itself. "This whole stupidity thing? Just a front so nobody will suspect that you play a mean game of Scrabble."

Teal'c emerges to take over the watch just as Daniel is swaggering away. Jack and the Jaffa exchange a look full of animated eyebrows, then Jack turns to follow Daniel to his tent. Daniel's just bending over to climb in when Jack says, "Daniel, have I told you about my latest plans for the budget?"

the end


End file.
